March 3, 2008

I am a camel laden with bales of straw. The straw is heavy and I have a long walk ahead of me. I could put some of it down, but I’ve agreed to carry it and deliver it to the proper locations. If I lose straws or abandon them early, I will disappoint others and myself. So I carry the straw. I work hard to complete tasks so that I can unload some of the straw. Sometimes the task is only a single straw. Other times the task is a whole bale. Each time I unload some of my burden I feel lighter, like I could dance. But the walk goes on and I am met on the road by an endless stream of people who have more straw for me to carry. Some days I’m quite willing to add to my load. Other days I watch them approach and wonder if this will be the proverbial last straw, the one under which I break completely, the one after which my ability to carry straw at all will be permanently impaired.

The hardest times of all, are when some task I thought I’d completed is unexpectedly handed back to me. Particularly if it a bale of straw task rather than a handful of straw task. This happened to me last night. A bale I’ve unloaded twice, came back to me a second time. But before I could collapse, Howard grabbed the bale and added it to his load rather than to mine. I may be a camel over loaded with straw, but I am a fortunate one, because I have a caravan to walk with. I have others around me who notice when my knees are wobbling and help me carry the load.

Now I need to just walk around to the other side of Howard and see if I can pick up whatever gets knocked off because he picked up my bale. And I need to try to walk faster so I can unload some of this straw. And I need to be very careful about agreeing to carry anything else.

I told Howard about my camel and straw metaphor. He told me I’ve got the wrong one. He says I should instead be the camel with it’s nose in the tent because in that one, the camel wins.

I love Howard. He makes me laugh even when I feel nigh broken.

I finally figured out why Kiki spends so much time scolding and picking at Gleek. I knew that Kiki loves Gleek and so the constant stream of negativity was incredibly frustrating. Kiki was observing Gleek’s current behaviors and extrapolating them unchanged into the future. Kiki could just visualize the disasters ahead for Gleek in that scenario and so felt compelled to hound Gleek into making changes. Gleek, whose behaviors are typical of a seven year old, naturally rebelled at the efforts to make her react as if she were 13.

Today I found a quiet moment to talk to Kiki about what she is doing. I explained that she is right, that if the behaviors continue forever Gleek has a rocky road ahead. Then I also explained that these behaviors will not remain unchanged because Gleek will grow and learn. The example we used was cleaning up a bedroom. This was today’s task and Kiki was picking at Gleek for not working hard enough. I told Kiki stories about herself at that same age and explained a little about the brain development that is necessary to handle such a complex task solo. We then talked about the futility of trying to get a seven year old to behave and react as if she were twice her age.

As we talked I could see an inner tension uncoiling inside Kiki. I’d put my finger right on the trouble. Kiki loves Gleek and wants to save her from disaster. Kiki is very relieved to learn that she does not have to be quite so vigilant. I am hopeful of less squabbling.